


Revelations

by new_mexicunt



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-14 21:07:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28927032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/new_mexicunt/pseuds/new_mexicunt
Summary: Set the evening after Alec looks through Magnus's box of memories in season three.  I felt like, in reality, that would have cut a lot deeper than the show let on and I needed a better resolution.  There's a tiny plot about a Warlock child too, but it's not the main point of the story.“'Someday… someday I’m gonna be one of those things in your box and you… Magnus you’re, like, my whole box.' He swallowed thickly and blinked away a few tears. 'You’re my whole life.'”
Relationships: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Comments: 19
Kudos: 103





	1. Breakthrough

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys :) Just something that keeps rolling around in my mind. I hope I've executed it well. Writing is hard... Anyhoo, it was gonna be a one-shot, but I think the ending deserves justice. You can read the first half and leave it at that, or you can wait for me to finish it out :) I don't think the first chapter will leave you completely dissatisfied.

Magnus slipped quietly into the apartment and headed straight for the drink cart. Todays client was a sweet warlock child with a nasty bout of poison and Magnus could barely contain his emotions throughout the entirety of the treatment. The girl had been dumped near a semi-popular beach in New Jersey and found by a local mundane couple around midnight. Many mundanes and downworlders alike frequent the area, day and night. Either the parent wasn’t a local, or they didn’t care enough to be discrete. If they knew anything about the shadow world, they most likely assumed the death of a warlock child would not be raising high alerts with the local authorities (i.e. the shadowhunters). In other words: the child was not deemed worthy of a discrete death because the mother assumed no one would miss her enough to go after the perpetrator. 

_How depressing._ Thought Magnus. Depressing, not only because of the situation at hand, but also because the mother was probably right. There was a lot on the shadowhunters’ plates at the moment. The child’s killer would fall to the wayside. 

Magnus filled a tumbler with rum and drank. He hardly felt it. 

Eventually, the local shadowhunters had been alerted and had called upon the nearest High Warlock to accompany them to the scene. Lorenzo deemed it beneath himself, especially due to the proximity (or lack there-of) of the case. Enter yours truly. 

The girl was alive, but barely. Her small breaths were labored, and her fingers and toes were chilled to the point of turning blue. Luckily, the current was soft that day and had washed her up almost immediately after the dumping. Additionally, the convenient and rather ironic twist to this story was that the little infant’s warlock mark had been webbed feet and hands. The mark wasn’t fully developed; thin layers of skin still crept their way up through the slits in her extremities. However, it was prominent enough to help save her life. Magnus had checked each little web in addition to extracting the poison from her body. They had scars all over them, as though someone had been trying to cut them out from between her fingers. Magnus kissed each one. 

After she’d been properly healed, the shadowhunters took the unconscious child back to the New Jersey institute. Magnus asked if he might inquire about her the following day, but the shadowhunters told him he would need to put in a formal request. The girl was under the jurisdiction of the Clave now. 

Magnus had scoffed. Jurisdiction. In other words: she’d be left to minimal care and contact until less important missions began to arise, or she would be handed over to the silent brothers. Magnus wasn’t sure which was worse. At least, he thought, if she was taken to the silent brothers, he could speak to brother Zachariah. 

He poured himself a second glass (gin and tonic this time around; he was trying to sleep, not get plastered) and made his way to the bedroom. As he walked in, he was shocked to find his Nephilim boyfriend sitting on the bed. 

Alec looked solemn. He was sitting at the foot of the bed with his feet flat against the floor and his back hunched over in what must have been an uncomfortable position. His elbows were placed against the inner sides of his knees, pressing them out to create space for the shirt he held in his hand. Magnus recognized the shirt as the one he had allowed Alec to borrow earlier that morning; it was now crumpled up between Alec’s fingers, leaving Magnus’s boyfriend topless. 

Magnus wasn’t complaining, by any means. Alec was a beautiful man. Thick, toned muscles wrapped around his torso and worked their way down to the “V” of his hips. The angelic runes were prominent against Alec’s dark skin, and their deep, rich color was enhanced by the light filtering through the red curtains hanging over the window. As it was dusk, everything had a red tint to it. Including Alec. Magnus was so focused on the topless aspect of his boyfriend that he almost didn’t notice the pained expression flash across Alec’s face as soon as Magnus walked in. 

Alec was picking at the shirt and looked like he was concentrating hard on some sort-of pattern he had found there. At least, that’s what Magnus inferred he was doing the brief second he saw Alec before the young man looked up at him. He looked like a deer caught in headlights.

“Magnus,” he started, rising from his spot on the bed, “I, uh, I’m sorry I should have asked before coming. I just, um… Well, I came to bring you your shirt. But,” He paused, looking a bit sheepish, “it- well it still has the sleeves altered so I wasn’t sure if I should just leave it or-” he cut off again, looking down at himself self-consciously. “Um,” he began again, “I also forgot to bring an extra shirt… of my own, I mean.” 

Magnus was perplexed. Since when did Alec care to text him when he was coming over? Sure, the first few weeks, when they were setting aside dates for one-another, it made sense. But, as they grew more comfortable in their relationship, and as Alec began making himself more at-home in the loft, they had forgone the courtesy of warning texts a while back. 

“Sweetheart, you’re always welcome here. I thought I had made that clear.” Magnus said as he set the drink down on his dresser. “And you may keep the shirt. I have plenty. Plus, it looks good on you; I wouldn’t want to deprive your wardrobe, or my eyes, the luxury of a well-fitted top for once.” Magnus winked, hoping to portray that he was teasing (mostly). 

“Oh, no thank you.” Alec stated, crossing his arms over his chest and pulling his elbow together; almost as though he were hugging himself. He looked tense, and… beaten. Magnus raised his eyebrows, a bit perplexed at the onslaught of self-conscious emotions emanating off of Alec. 

“No,” Alec began, resolution saturating his voice, “this is your place and your stuff and I-” Alec paused, taking a deep breath, “I don’t ask. I should have asked, but I don’t with you and I’m sorry. I’m… well, it doesn’t matter. I just want you to have your shirt back.” Alec finished, handing Magnus the garment stiffly. He allowed his hand to linger against Magnus’s for a brief moment before pulling back and shoving both of them in his pockets. He shuffled his feet a bit before finally deciding to make his way out of the bedroom. Magnus grabbed his arm before he could get further than the doorframe. 

“Alexander,” he breathed, “Darling, what’s this about? What doesn’t matter?” Magnus searched his eyes for clues, but Alec turned his head towards the door, blocking his view. Everything in Alec’s body language screamed “retreat”, but he left his arm in Magnus’s grasp. 

“That.” Alec said sharply, finally looking up at Magnus. “It’s that you- ugh, you call me these things. These terms of endearment, but you call everyone “darling”. And… and you, God Magnus, you have this box full of people that have held you and touched you and I feel- I feel…” Alec closed his eyes and let out a long, deep breath. 

Magnus, on the other hand, was holding his. Ah. So that’s what this was about.

Alec finally pulled his arm out of Magus’s grasp and leaned against the doorframe. He was still looking at the floor. 

“I know you’re immortal Magnus. I know that you have to move on from this stuff to keep… living. But… I hate that you’ll move on from me.” Alec finally looked up and Magnus could see the unshed tears in his eyes. “I know this is selfish, and I know it’s cruel for me to even think this way. But it’s how I feel.” 

“Alexander-” he began, reaching out to his arm once again, but Alec flinched back. 

“No,” he huffed out, “no, let me finish.” He said, looking back down at his shoes. He paused for a second, thinking through his next statement, and then looked back up at Magnus. “Someday… someday I’m gonna be one of those things in your box and you… Magnus you’re, like, my whole box.” He swallowed thickly and blinked away a few tears. “You’re my whole life.”

And now, finally, Magnus understood. Why Alec was insisting he take the shirt back. Why he was ready to bolt from the room as soon as Magnus allowed the conversation to end. Why he had apologized for not texting Magnus before coming to his apartment. When Alec had looked into that box, he felt insignificant. It was one thing to talk about immortality, but an entirely different thing to be physically confronted by it. How small Alec’s life was compared to the eight-hundred years of treasures hidden away in Magnus’s little memory box. 

But it wasn’t just the box, and Magnus could see that Alec was recognizing this now. It was everywhere. It was the five-hundred-year-old vase that Ragnor had gifted Magnus for his whatever-year-old birthday. It was the eight-hundred-year-old dagger that Magnus’ mother had used to end her own life. It was the books and the tapestries and the photographs and suddenly Magnus could see the way that Alec was suffocating under the shear weight of Magnus’ age. Of his life. 

It was just this morning that Alec was here asking Magnus to let him move in, to let him build a life with Magnus. And now, Alec was coming to the, logical but incorrect, conclusion that Magnus had already lived it. Alec wanted to build a home with Magnus when Magnus had already erected a castle on his own. In Alec’s eyes, there was no room for him here. There was nothing left to build on. Magnus had been loved every way that a man could be loved. Touched in every place that a man could be touched. And Magnus could see, now, the evidence stacking up against him, pushing Alec into a spiral of self-doubt and insignificance. Because Alec didn’t know (and this was Magnus’s fault); he didn’t know that he had torn into parts of Magnus that no one had ever dared to look at. He had touched Magnus in ways that no one had ever touched him before. Yes, the places were the same and the actions were the same. But Alexander loved and touched with such intensity that left Magnus breathless each time. 

Alec loved Magnus the way Magnus had held himself back from loving others for so long. And Magnus had failed to show him that this feeling, this depth, was reciprocated. 

And Magnus knew. He knew that Nephilim only love once, and fiercely. But he hadn’t thought… well, he still held onto the sliver of doubt that perhaps, one day, this would be too much for Alec. That he would crave something, or someone, a little closer to home. Here Magnus had been, focusing so hard on not getting his heart broken that he had convinced his beautiful Nephilim boyfriend that he was nothing more that a trinket in a box. 

This needed to be fixed now, before Alec allowed himself to be swallowed by his own thoughts. 

But, before Magnus could move, Alec had finally broken free of his stance and left for the living room. 

“I need to go Magnus.” He said, curtly, heading for the front door (still shirtless). 

“Alec-”

“No, Magnus, I’m not-” he sighed, looking at Magnus again with those big, doe eyes. He looked so sad. There was resolution in his gaze, alongside a deep pain. A pain Magnus knew he was at fault for putting there. So unnecessary, if only Magnus had been honest sooner. Alec looked at Magnus like a man full of thirst looks at the ocean. He knew what he wanted, what he needed, and it was right there. But he couldn’t have it (or so he thought).

“You can have it.” Magnus wanted to scream. “You can have me. You already have me you stupid Nephilim.” Instead, he simply asked:

“What? Darli-Angel, Why? Where are you going now? You haven’t even let me-”

“Magnus,” Alec cut him off, “there’s a little girl at the New Jersey institute. I got the call right before you got home. I should have left sooner.” He ended, looking defeated. 

“A little warlock girl?” Magnus asked, shocked at both the new information and the sharp turn that the conversation had suddenly taken. 

“Yah how did-? Never mind, I just need to go. I have to request a transfer before they send her to the silent city.” Alec said, turning for the door again. 

“Wait! Alexander, let me go with you.” Magnus went to grab his jacket off the coat hanger (well, two jackets, Alec was still half-naked). Just as he was about to get his arm through the first sleeve though, Alec cut him off. 

“No,” Alec said, placing his hand against Magnus’s forearm. “No, you stay here. There’s nothing we can do until I get the Clave to sign off on the transfer. It’s just a bunch of paperwork right now.” 

Magnus shrugged off his hand and finished getting the rest of his coat put on. 

“Well, then I can help you fill out paperwork. Or go talk to the New Jersey shadowhunters. Or-“

“Magnus.” Alec said again, squaring his shoulders and looking down at Magnus’s chest. Magnus suspected he was avoiding his eyes for a reason. “Please, just… just let me handle this.” Just let me be alone, they both knew was left unsaid. 

Magnus reached for his boyfriend, but Alec pulled away this time, jerking his head as though he’d been shocked. It broke Magnus’s heart, but he put his arms down and looked at Alec resolutely. 

“Fine.” He said, “At least let me portal you to the institute. You can’t go walking down the streets of New York shirtless.” He paused, smirking a bit. “Well, you can…” He trailed off, trying to bring some light back into the conversation. Alec smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. 

“Okay.” He relented, stepping back from the front door. He clasped his hands behind his back and looked down at the floor, waiting for Magnus to open the portal. Magnus did, but before he allowed Alec to step through, he placed one hand on his chest and the other he used to tip his chin up. Alec looked tired and defeated; it cracked open Magnus’s heart further than it had already been broken by the prior conversation. He couldn’t fix this now, but he couldn’t leave the conversation on such a bad note. He couldn’t let Alec leave feeling so completely… irrelevant. 

“Alexander,” he whispered, looking straight into Alec’s hazel eyes, “I love you.” He dropped the glamour as he said this, willing Alec to see the depth of emotion present in his eyes. But Alec averted his gaze, glancing behind Magnus into the portal. 

“I love you too Magnus.” He said, finally looking back into Magnus’ cat eyes and allowing a few of those unshed tears to fall. But before Magnus could even think to wipe them away, he pulled his chin from Magnus’s grasp and stepped hastily through the portal.


	2. Understanding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. Wrapped up. I'm finnicky with dialogue, but I hope it came out okay. 
> 
> Please enjoy. Please critique :)

Magnus stepped through the portal and into Alec’s office. It was a cold day in New York and even colder inside the institute. Magnus was still trying to figure out if that was for some sort-of shadowhunter character-building exercise, or if the Clave just refused to pay for indoor heating. Either way, Magnus was glad that he’d thought to grab a jacket. He could have, of course, warmed himself up with magic, but that would have been a bit wasteful. Magnus was trying to save his energy these days; he never knew when he was going to be needed for life-altering duties. He loved Alec, but keeping him and his little shadowhunter friends alive was starting to feel like a fulltime job. 

He tried to wait patiently for his boyfriend, but he felt antsy. They hadn’t spoken since their discussion (fight?) three days prior. Magnus had been trying to think of the right way to broach the subject again, but each explanation he’d weaved together in his mind didn’t sound very convincing. Magnus could hardly navigate his own feelings for Alexander, let alone walk Alec through them himself. Magnus knew that getting through this wasn’t going to be an easy fix. He felt like he was trying to glue water droplets together; Alec’s confession had put Magnus in an odd position. How could he convey Alec’s relevance to him without downplaying his love for everyone else in his life? How would he validate Alec’s feelings while still being honest about his own emotions? 

Before he could dwell on the thought much longer, Alec finally stepped through the office door. He was beautiful, as always. His hair was ruffled, but not messy. He was dressed head to toe in black, accessorized with a variety of different weapons. He stood tall, shoulders back and arms clasped behind his back, looking ever-so-much like the leader Magnus knew he’d always dreamed of being. He looked confident, but not proud. Magnus wouldn’t have thought anything of the man’s demeanor if he had been just another shadowhunter. Fortunately (or unfortunately, in this case), Magnus had become well-acquainted with the man’s eyes these past few months and he easily spotted the pain that flashed across his expression as he took Magnus in. However, ever the soldier, he pulled his lips into a tight smile and greeted Magnus with a (forced) peck on the cheek. 

“Hi Magnus.” He spoke, grabbing the older man’s hand and squeezing before dropping it back down to his side. Magnus felt the fresh scabs on Alec’s knuckles; someone had been taking their frustration out on the punching bag again. 

“Thanks for coming.”

Magnus sighed and brought both his hands out to capture Alec’s again. He didn’t miss the apprehensive look that his boyfriend was sending their clasped hands before Magnus brought his closed fist to his mouth to kiss between Alec’s knuckles. When he brought Alec’s hand back down from his lips, the scabs were gone. Alec’s eyes softened a bit at the gesture; but the thawed look was accompanied by another brief flash of pain. Magnus wished he could kiss that away as well; if only it were that easy. 

“Of course,” Magnus said softly, “I wanted to come as soon as you had her in custody, but I understand that diplomacy need not be ignored entirely.” Magnus winked, referring to the Clave’s orders that the Warlock girl’s examination be requested through the high Warlock of Brooklyn, as opposed to calling upon “any old warlock that the institute has lying around at the time.” (“Inquisitor Herondale’s words, not mine.” Alec had hissed through the phone). Magnus understood that Alec knew when to pick his battles. Battling the Clave’s centuries-old homophobia could wait until a child’s livelihood was not on the line. Alec had remained the brave, diplomatic leader throughout the discussion with the inquisitor. Additionally, Magnus knew that Lorenzo could give two shits about the kid and would gladly let Magnus “clean up the mess” (“Lorenzo’s words, not mine.” Magnus had texted earlier). 

Now, Magnus had come to make sure the girl was okay and, hopefully, take her back to the loft while the Institute attempted to figure out where to place her. Magnus already had the guest bedroom made up and, maybe, had dipped a bit further into his pocketbook than he had intended when shopping at “Toys-R-Us”. He had no clue what she liked, so he bought a bit of everything. He also stocked his (usually empty) fridge. He detested cooking, usually opting to summon meals from restaurants each night (he did pay. He had to remind Alec of this bi-weekly). However, he knew children were basically food-dumps, and warlock children even more-so. They needed all the energy they could get as their magic strengthened through the years. Magnus didn’t remember much from his childhood, but he did remember eating his bodyweight in rice almost every day. 

“C’mon.” Alec sighed, pulling Magnus along with one hand. Magnus was glad they could do that again. However, he was also sad that this was something he had to be excited about. He missed the Alec that wrapped him up in big bear-hugs each time he saw Magnus. Magnus used to whine about being suffocated to death; but Alec would just chuckle, letting his lips brush down behind Magnus’s ear each time. 

“I like the way you smell there.” Alec had admitted to him one night, when they were both cocooned in the silk sheets of Magnus’s bed. It was early in their relationship, and Magnus had caught the sheepish young Nephilim red-handed, burying his nose in that spot when he thought Magnus had been sleeping. “You smell the most like you right there.” Magnus had swooned. 

He was not swooning now. He was bitterly accepting a handhold that Magnus was pretty sure was only being offered so as not to throw Alec’s family off if they happened to bump into them. Alec was generally an affectionate boyfriend; it would definitely be noticed if he began avoiding Magnus’s touch like the plague. 

They made their way through what Magnus assumed to be the dorms. It was a long hallway with little rooms aligning each side. Magnus peaked into each one, noting the same, bland wall colors and institute-issued sheets. Not all the doors were open, but the ones that were allowed Magnus to peak in and see little photographs tacked onto the walls, or books lying on nightstands. One girl had a bright-pink shag rug laid out in the center of the room. None of them were decorated to the extent that Magnus would have liked (the place was so dull, he’d have revamped the entire Institute if it were up to him), but they were at least personalized. It was nice to know all the Nephilim weren’t completely devoid of individualism. Magnus knew this already, of course, but it was nice to see physical evidence. Little trinkets and memories that screamed “this is me!” from each dorm. He briefly wondered what Izzy’s looked like.

He had never seen Alec’s room, surprisingly (he assumed that’s where they were headed now). They always met in the office. Magnus was curious to see what his Alexander got up to outside of the loft. 

They rounded a corner and came to the end of the hall. Here, Alec opened the last door and gestured for Magnus to step through. Inside was a slightly larger room than the rest of the dorms. It held a queen-size bed (as opposed to a full), though still adorned with the dark-grey sheets that all the others had been decorated with. The closet was off to the side, looking like a black void of leather and cheap cotton. The only flash of color was the blue dress shirt Magnus had bought Alec a few weeks ago. It looked plain in the backdrop of Magnus’s bedroom, but here, it was the shining star of the wardrobe. Magnus sighed. He was really going to need to work on that. 

Alec’s room wasn’t empty. He had a photo propped up against his bedside lamp. When Magnus stepped closer to look, he could see that it was a picture of the two of them. A selfie that Magnus had insisted upon when they had gone for pizza in Rome. They were both holding little gelato cups and Magnus was smiling towards the camera, eyes covered in blue tones that day. Alec, on the other hand, was looking at Magnus. A goofy, lop-sided grin adorned his lips and he had chocolate smeared at one of the corners. His cheeks were flushed, and he looked almost childlike. Magnus remembered kissing him after the photo, licking all the chocolate off his boyfriend’s love-drunk lips. It made Magnus’s heart constrict just thinking about it. 

There was only one other item, aside from the ungodly number of weapons lying around, that Magnus deemed a “personal touch”. It was the shampoo bottle, standing next to the photo of the two of them. It wasn’t anything special, just a glass vial with warm, brown liquid in it. Magnus had seen it before, of course. It was the shampoo he made for Alec after the young Nephilim had requested his own supply after showering at Magnus’s. Magnus wanted to laugh. Everything that brought any sort-of color to Alec’s room was Magnus’s. Even the photo, which Magnus had technically taken on his phone. 

And then he froze. 

The thought struck him again. This time, under a different tone. Everything that added any sort-of color to Alec’s room was Magnus’s. 

Anything that added any sort-of color to Alec’s life was Magnus’s.

Magnus glanced over at Alec, watching as the young man began picking up discarded seraph blades and arrows from the floor and shoving them in the closet. He looked tense, maybe already aware that Magnus had been hyper-scrutinizing his bedroom.

“Izzy’s bringing her here in a bit.” Alec began, jabbing another arrow into an open combat boot. “I guess I’ll need to go grab a cot or something for myself… Actually, would you mind summoning my couch in from my office?” Alec asked, standing to address Magnus at full height. 

Magnus blinked, and then shook his head to clear the fog. He was getting hit with a lot of new information at one time. 

“Wait,” he started, “what? You want her to stay… here?” Magnus asked, gesturing wildly around the room. 

“Umm, yah?” Alec replied, a bit perplexed by Magnus’s reaction. “Is there something wrong with the room?” 

“Alexander,” Magnus sighed, trying to regain his composure, “you can’t let a little girl stay here. There’s weapons littering the entire room.”

“Well, not anymore…” Alec said, self-consciously, “That’s why I was putting them all in the closet. We can lock them up with magic if that’ll make you feel better…” he trailed off.

“Sweetheart,” Magnus tried again, trying to figure out how to put this next part delicately, “this isn’t exactly a… child’s dream room.” 

Alec scoffed. 

“Magnus, she’ll be fine. I spent my entire childhood in this room, and I turned out fine. She’ll only be a here a few days. A few weeks, at the most.” 

Magnus tried again:

“Alexander, dear, she’s not a soldier-in-training. She’s a little girl. She’ll get very bored very fast. Why don’t you let her come stay with me? I already have the guest room set up and a lifetime supply of toys waiting for her. Plus, I can handle any little magical accidents that might pop up. They often do with warlock children. Especially those under a lot of emotional stress.” 

Alec looked shocked at the news. He hadn’t even thought to ask Magnus to take the girl home with him. He thought Magnus was just here to do a quick physical/magical evaluation. 

“Magnus, you don’t have to… I mean, I appreciate the offer, but we don’t know how long she’s gonna be here. It could be weeks.” Alec replied, looking softly into Magnus’s eyes. It was the first time that day that Alec had looked at him for more than a two-second period. Magnus knew that look. It was the: “I know you’re being unnecessarily selfless, and I appreciate it, but don’t worry about it” look. 

“Alec, it’s okay. She’s a child, not a bomb. I think I can handle a little excess energy around the loft. Plus, I’ve already had everything made up for her. She’ll have a home with me as long as she needs.” 

Alec flinched then, unable to hide the pain that overtook his features almost instantly.

A home. Her home. Alec was suddenly more jealous of this toddler than he had ever been of any woman that had ever flirted with teenage Jace. He felt sick. 

“Magnus,” he managed to choke out, “I would, I… I would let her go with you… if I could. But,” he paused, looking down at his shirtsleeve and twisting the little button holding it together, “the Clave wants her being supervised by the shadowhunters. At all times.” He looked back up at Magnus, gauging his reaction. 

“It wasn’t my call.” Alec started again. “I’m working on it, since obviously that won’t be possible once she gets adopted out. But until then…” he trailed off, gesturing around the room. “Until then, I’ll just… make the best with what we have, I suppose.” 

Magnus listened to Alec fight against the emotion rising in his voice. He looked guilty, like he expected backlash from Magnus. He knew Magnus hated it when the Clave imposed on warlock matters. Especially those involving children. But Magnus wasn’t thinking of the Clave. Magnus was thinking of a little boy, spending his days training for hours on end for a higher purpose he didn’t get to choose, and his nights holed up in this tiny, frigid room. He was thinking of a boy who managed to bring so much warmth into Magnus’s heart and into Magnus’s home. Warmth that stemmed from something deep and raw, because it certainly wasn’t bred from a place like this. 

“God,” Magnus thought, “how stupid I’ve been.” 

He needed to fix this. Right now. 

Magnus reached out and clasped one of Alec’s hands in both of his again, willing the Nephilim to look at him. He did, thank the Gods, but he looked stiff. Closed-off. He was already shoving another hurt into the back corners of his mind and Magnus hated that he was the one that put it there. 

“Then stay with us.” Magnus whispered, praying that Alec heard the double meaning in his words. 

Alec heard. What Magnus didn’t expect was his reaction. 

“Don’t.” Alec said sharply, ripping his hand away from Magnus’s. “Don’t do that.” Alec elaborated, walking towards the closet, looking like he was searching for something to do with his hands. 

Magnus was flabbergasted. 

“What- Alexander what’s wrong? I thought this is what you wan-”

“No.” Alec said again, looking Magnus dead in the eye. He looked… furious. “No this is definitely not what I want. What I want is for you to stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?” Magnus asked, still shocked. 

“Like that!” Alec was borderline yelling now. Magnus would have been relieved… if they weren’t in the middle of a downworlder-hating beehive. “Like you- God that look! Stop pitying me, Magnus, I’m not a child!” 

“I never said you were one.” Magnus replied coolly. He needed to get through this fire before he was going to get through to his boyfriend. He knew it was partially his fault for letting this build up for so long. 

“Then stop it.” Alec said again, less acid in his voice this time. “Stop. I-” He swallowed and shut his eyes. “I get it.” He let out in one breath, folding in on himself like a dying flame. 

“No,” Magnus said firmly, “No, you don’t.” Magnus walked over to Alec and cupped his chin in both his hands, lifting the man’s jaw to look into Magnus’s eyes again. “Alexander,” he breathed out, gentle, but firm, “you are more than just a memory for my box.”

Alec froze, staring at Magnus like he had spoken some foreign language.

“What?” He choked out. 

“Sweetheart,” Magnus began again, finally finding his footing, “I don’t want to build a box to remember you by. I want to build a life with you.” 

“What are you saying?” Alec asked, tears clogging up his words. 

“I don’t want to keep your things hidden in a dusty box in my study, darling. I want them scattered around our bedroom and our kitchen. I want them in the bathroom cupboards and on top of the coffee table and under the kitchen sink. I want your clothes mixed up with mine in our closet. I want your bedside table full of arrowheads and shitty mystery novels. I want your dirty socks strung out on the sofa and your floss hanging out of the bathroom trashcan. I want you in my life, Alexander. I want you everywhere.”

“But,” Alec tried again, “But before… you-”

“I was scared!” Magnus was crying now (Gods help them, they were both sobbers). He couldn’t help it. He needed Alec to hear what he was trying to tell him. “I’m scared, Alexander. I’ve never done this before. I’ve never had anyone that’s wanted to… that wants to-” he cut off here, not really knowing how to finish the sentence. He closed his eyes in defeat, attempting to turn his head away so as not to show Alec how many stupid tears he let fall, but Alec grabbed his chin at the last second, forcing his head to stay put. 

“I want to.” Alec whispered, and Magnus opened his eyes. Alec had that same look in his eyes as he had at the wedding. Resolute. Determined. “I want everything with you, Magnus.” he said, not unkindly, “I want your everything.” 

And Magnus finally broke, wrapping his arm around the Nephilim and burying his face in the young man’s chest. He had not felt this much in a long time. 

“I love you.” He cried against Alec. “I love you so much, Alexander. So much that sometimes I can’t even breathe.” 

“That’s funny.” Alec huffed into Magnus’s hair, “I feel like the moment I met you was the first time I really took a breath.” 

Magnus looked up then, reaching up to cup Alec’s face with one hand, while the other stayed resting against Alec’s chest. “Kiss me.” He whispered softly. He needed Alec to make the first move; to break the stalemate of physical touch that had passed between them over the past three days. 

“Of course.” Alec whispered back, and crushed Magnus’s mouth against his own. Magnus hummed into the kiss, not caring if anyone heard him at this point. 

The kiss was warm, like Alec. The Nephilim wrapped his arms around Magnus and pulled him so close that Magnus thought he might suffocate. But he didn’t. Instead, he just moaned louder and opened his mouth to deepen the kiss. Alec seized the opportunity and slipped his tongue into the older man’s mouth, teasing Magnus’s bottom lip with the tip. It was passionate. It was Alec.

It was home. 

Magnus moved to pull Alec back against the edge of the bed, but before he could get any further, he heard a knock at Alec’s door. Before either of them could even think to pull away, Izzy popped her head in before immediately puling herself back out into the hallway. 

“Guys, c’mon, you couldn’t make it twenty minutes?” 

Three days, but Magnus wasn’t about to correct her. 

“I have Ari here with me, so if you guys could maybe separate yourselves for, like, two minutes, she’d love to meet Magnus.”

Alec unraveled himself from Magnus’s grasp and began smoothing down the front of his shirt. There was no hiding the distinct flush in his cheeks though. 

Magnus, on the other hand, just snapped his fingers and he suddenly looked completely unruffled. Warlock perks. 

“Decent.” He sang, speaking for the both of them, as Alec still looked a bit flustered. 

Izzy walked in holding the little warlock child in her arms. She looked much better than when Magnus last saw her. She had color in her cheeks and her hair was smoothed down. She was looking through it at Magnus, hiding in the crook of Izzy’s neck. 

“Can you say hello?” Izzy asked the little girl softly. She reached her hand around to smooth the hair away from the girl’s face. “It’s okay, Magnus is our friend.”

The girl perked her head up and chewed her little webbed fist for a second. Then, she dropped her hand and looked up at Magnus. 

“Hello.” She whispered, timid, but smiling. She recognized him. 

Magnus smiled back. 

“Hello darling,” he started, reaching to shake her webbed hand. “My name is Magnus Bane. Would you like to come home with us?”


End file.
